


Smile for the Camera

by aurilly



Category: Lost
Genre: F/M, Oceanic Six
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-03
Updated: 2009-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-02 19:23:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurilly/pseuds/aurilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shannon moves in with Sun after things fall apart with Sayid. But things have a habit of putting themselves together again, just not necessarily the way they were before. (An AU exploring what might have happened had Shannon been rescued along with the Oceanic Six.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"I'm so sorry, Sun, I'm so sorry," Sayid is frantically murmuring over and over again. He's not just holding Sun, he's also holding her _down_ so that she doesn't pitch herself out of the helicopter and into the wreckage-filled waves below. It's one of those simultaneously sensitive and sensi_ble_ things that he's always the only one pulled together enough to do.

Shannon doesn't know what to do. She's always been good at distracting people from their problems by changing the subject (usually to something random or something about herself), but she's never been good at providing actual comfort. Of all the people in the helicopter, Shannon is definitely the closest friend Sun has, but all she can do is stare, lips slightly parted, as Sayid tries to calm her down. Yes, Desmond had been yelling about a bomb, but Shannon hadn't really taken it seriously. But now there is smoke in the air and Sun's anguished screams fill the small space of the helicopter.

"It's done! He's gone!" Jack yells.

"Shut the hell up, Jack!" Shannon snaps back at him, throwing her entire body and all of her overwrought emotions into the words. She may not know how to comfort Sun, but she _does_ know how to put people in their place when they're being assholes.

A few minutes later, after the helicopter crashes (_clearly_, because god forbid _anything_ go right) and they're all sitting helpless and silent in the life raft, Sayid and Shannon share a glance. They don't have anything even close to what Sun and Jin had, but Shannon knows they're thinking the same thought. What if one of them had been down on that freighter? Sayid is totally the type to have sacrificed himself to try to diffuse the bomb. Shannon selfishly hates Sayid's selfless side. She works herself into a lather about his hypothetical explosion as a way of not having to deal with the reality that Jin and Michael have _actually_ exploded, and that the island, still holding everyone they've known for the past few months, has _disappeared_. How does that even _happen_?

She wonders vaguely what they're going to do in a few hours when they start to get thirsty and hungry. No one's saying anything, but they've all got to know that there's virtually no chance of anyone finding them. They're going to die out here. Some rescue _this_ is. She might as well have stayed back on the beach, although with the island disappearing, who knows what…

Shannon shoves Frank out of her way to sit between Sun and Sayid on the other side of the raft. Sayid takes one of her hands in both of his and draws it into his lap while Shannon rests her head on Sun's shoulder. It's the only sort of comforting action she can think of. But it's more for herself than for either of them.

*****************************

 

It's unclear if Penny has ordered her crew to sleep outside from now on in order to make room for the newcomers, or if the sweaty-but-hot Portuguese guys genuinely feel sorry for them. Either way, Desmond and Penny disappear pretty quickly below decks. After three years, Shannon doesn't blame her.

They all stand staring awkwardly at one another. Shannon can see the guilt on Hurley's and Sayid's face, the grief on Sun's, the fear on Kate's, and the confusion on Jack's. Shannon doesn't know what's the matter with all of them. They've just been _rescued_. Isn't that all anyone's been talking about for months? She's with Frank; now's the time to jump and cheer, but no one's cheering with her. Desmond's the only one who shares the sentiment and he's busy schtupping his girlfriend.

There's nothing to do but go to bed. Sun flinches when Kate offers her the hand that isn't holding Aaron, a silent signal that they should be bunkmates. Shannon sort of feels bad, but even if he hadn't spent the entire past week on the freighter, she and Sayid haven't been in a place with the door shut, much less a real bed, _ever_, and Shannon's not about to put it off anymore. Not that it matters, however, because when she gets in one dirty, narrow, twin bed, Sayid gets in the other, and the most he touches her is to hold her hand across the space between the beds. But somehow it's more than enough. Sitting in the sun all day took it out of her more than she realized.

Things are quiet and calm for the rest of the week, and even though they're on a boat, it's a relief to have running water and not worry about people trying to kill them. However, after a few days, it becomes clear that they can no longer avoid making some sort of plan. Of course, Jack's the one to propose it, and it's _stupid_. He's back on his random 'we have to lie' thing, which Shannon had just ignored when he'd mentioned it in the life raft that night. And now Kate's talking about how she's going to pretend that Aaron is her biological son. They decide to sleep on it, but Shannon's mad enough to spit. She isn't really sure why.

"If anything, Aaron should go with Sun," she rants to Sayid in their bedroom. "She's the one who's always babysitting and taking care of him whenever Claire needs a break. Kate's never given a shit about him. Hell, _I've_ spent more time with the kid, and I hate babies!"

"You're right," Sayid soothes. At least now he's pushed the two beds together, but the walls are still too thin and the room is _way_ too hot and airless to do anything. "But it wouldn't make any sense. Aaron looks nothing like Sun. No one would believe it."

"No one's going to believe it anyway," she argues.

The next day they take a vote. At first it's Kate-Jack-Sun v. Hurley-Sayid-Shannon. A stalemate. At first Shannon doesn't know why Desmond and Frank don't get a vote, too, but when it becomes clear that their votes would keep it at a tie, too (Desmond seems pro-lie and Frank seems anti), she ceases to care. She has no idea what changes Sayid's mind, but Jack somehow sways him over, appeals to his self-sacrificing and protective side, the only side of him that doesn't listen to reason.

He gets no sex that night. And it's his loss, too, because after a long day of sunburn and rafting and telling Jack's stupid lie, it's also their first night in a _big_ bed, one that's in a room where the walls are something other than paper-thin, and where Shannon could have shown him how great it _really_ is to go out with her. Too bad.

*****************************

 

The sun is so bright after being cooped up in that cargo hold for so many hours that Shannon has to shield her eyes as the ramp lowers for their grand entrance. But at the sound of a million cameras clicking, she opens her eyes and smiles the glamorous little smile she's been practicing ever since they got rescued for _real_ (the week with Penny didn't really count). When she surveys the scene, she sees a lot of random people at the front lines. Who the hell are _they_? But she figures it out when she sees two kind of chubby people waving ridiculously at Hurley and an older Asian couple crying their eyes out… and when she sees Boone's mother.

Shannon stiffens, and Sayid, who's been walking with Kate and the baby for some reason, comes over and, without moving his mouth, asks, "What is wrong?"

She doesn't have to answer because Mrs. Carlyle looks directly at Shannon, spreads her arms even wider than Sun's mother is, and smiles a smile that's even faker than her own. Shannon realizes with disgust that she's modeled her glamorous smile on Sabrina's glamorous smile. She immediately purses her lips to kill the association.

"Boone's mother?" he whispers. Shannon grimly nods her head.

Sayid already knows all about it. About her father dying, about being cut off, about having nowhere to go, about the cons. She wouldn't normally have been this forthcoming with anyone---not even with Sayid---but hell, being on the island was anything but normal. After awhile she'd run out of safe things to talk about, and had found herself telling him things she wasn't sure she really wanted him to know, just out of boredom, and because he wasn't the kind of person who would judge. It had become a sort of self-destructive game, seeing just how awful a picture she could paint of herself and have him still love her, for whatever reason it was that he loved her. But at this moment---and before, too, to be honest---she finds herself glad that she's told him, because he stiffens right along with her and laces their fingers together. For the millionth time, Shannon wonders if Sayid is secretly bionic; he's the only man she's ever known whose palms never get sweaty.

There's nothing for it but to talk to the bitch, since she's here, but Shannon has to make a big decision fast: does she take the high road and play nice for the reporters, or does she use her current situation to get payback?

"Shannon!" Mrs. Carlyle cries. _She's_ clearly here to play nice. Probably a big PR stunt for the company: get her name into the papers as the mother of one of the deceased, and also as the loving step-mother of one of the survivors. The phony way in which she throws her arms around Shannon is quite enough to make the decision. Shannon's never been one to back down from making a scene, especially when they deserve it. She stands stiffly in the embrace while she continues to hold Sayid's hand, acutely aware of the way people are photographing them.

After awhile, Mrs. Carlyle realizes that she's the only one doing any hugging and pulls back. The usual hardness is back in her eyes. No lies.

"What are you doing here?" It's an innocuous question, but she says it just loudly enough for the throng to hear.

A tear _dares_ to run down the bitch's face. "You're all I have now, Shannon. The only family left," Mrs. Carlyle whimpers affectedly, going in for another hug. But Shannon takes a step backwards into Sayid, who wraps a protective arm around her.

"That's funny," she says loudly---but not loudly enough to seem like she's doing it on purpose---and with just the right amount of melodrama, confident in the knowledge that at least four reporters are hanging on her every word. "You didn't really make me feel like family when my father died and you threw me out of the house at the age of eighteen. It didn't feel like family when _Boone_ was the only one making sure I was alright."

Mrs. Carlyle has her back to the cameras; she knows that they can't see the evil glare that she gives Shannon---totally ignoring Sayid's presence, by the way, which only makes Shannon that much more furious---but she makes sure that her voice remains sugary sweet. "You've always been family, Shannon. And now I'm here to take care of you again. If there's been any misunderstanding, I'm sure that in this terrible time, the two of us can---"

Sayid plays the game like a natural, because he interrupts, "'In this terrible time', Shannon has found a family that cares about her far more than you ever did. Furthermore, she can take care of herself."

At this moment, an enthusiastic Hurley grabs Sayid's free hand and drags him over to meet his parents. Shannon easily allows herself to be dragged along with him. She turns her back to Mrs. Carlyle's increasingly venomous face and, with hugs and air kisses and huge smiles, she makes an incredibly charming show of politeness and sweetness with the Reyes family, and solidarity with her island boyfriend.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees her wicked step-mother freeze for a minute under the glare of the photographers, and then stalk off. Shannon allows herself a small smile of triumph. Even better, Shannon knows that, cute and interesting as Kate is with her fake baby and tabloid-worthy legal drama, all eyes are currently on her. But best of all, it turns out that Sayid is right; Hurley's parents aren't really her kind of people, but Shannon feels more loved and wanted in this little circle right now than she has felt since both of her parents were alive.

*****************************

"Boone Carlyle, Shannon's brother, suffered tremendous internal injuries and died a few days after the crash. A woman, Libby, she didn't make it through the first week. Charlie Pace… he drowned a few weeks before we were able to leave." Jack is spinning the tale with amazing smoothness. The rest of them keep sneaking glances at him that are a mix of trepidation and awe. Cameras have been flashing nonstop since they got off the plane---Shannon is joyously aware of the fact that all of them---except for Hurley, of course---are by most standards fantastically good-looking, and that that helps fan the media firestorm. But much as she used to fantasize about a life in the spotlight, Shannon isn't sure how much she's actually enjoying this. Maybe it's because she never expected to be in the spotlight while carrying the stress of telling such a humongous lie, or having to wonder what the hell happened to all the people who disappeared. She's a wreck.

Understandably, after Jack's mention of Boone, the next question is for Shannon. "Ms. Rutherford, what was it like to  experience such a miraculous escape only to lose your brother days later?"

Shannon's hands have been nervously fidgeting with the base of her microphone for the entirety of the press conference. They can't pull it off, someone's going to give it away; what if it's her? As the reporter articulates the question, Shannon's fidgeting escalates to full-on destruction, and she all but knocks the microphone over. She desperately wants to spit back, _What do_ you _think it was like?_ but she knows she can't right now. Sayid, sitting next to her, reaches out with his right hand to grab her left one, steadying both the microphone and Shannon. As cameras flash to catch the touching moment, he looks at her lovingly, supportively, and it's enough to get to stammer out, "My brother was a hero. Ground he was standing on gave way underneath him. He died trying to help us, not because of injuries from the crash. All he ever did was try to help."

It isn't what Jack had told her to say, but she's pretty sure it will do. Her answer reminds her of the speech Sayid gave at Boone's funeral, and she realizes that she's cribbed it, internalized it more deeply that even she had realized. Being able to use something real in the lie makes it easier, but not easy enough. For the first time in months, her asthma starts acting up. Wheezing, she looks helplessly at Sayid, who in turn looks frantically at Sun. But there are none of those plants around, so Shannon simply pants in terror until one of the reporters passes an inhaler through the crowd.

Another reporter asks the obvious question. "How'd you deal with your asthma on the island?"

Shannon's still breathing too erratically to answer, so Sayid helps her out by explaining, "Sun was able to find an herbal remedy." Everyone licks their lips and takes note, because it's exactly the sort of _Survivor_-like human interest detail that they've been waiting for. Through her wheezing, Shannon grins: she's at the center of attention again, and in more of a way that she likes, in a way that's true. _This_ is more like what she was looking for, and even before the inhaler completely begins working, she starts to feel better.

After talking about Hurley's millions---how had Shannon not heard about that before?---she cringes inside when they ask poor Sun if her husband made it off the plane. There's a long pause, and even though he isn't sitting next to her, she can almost feel Jack bristling with the fear that Sun will give the show away in anger. They're all looking at her, struggling visibly against something bubbling within her. Sun and Shannon lock eyes and share a sad glance. Then Sun leans into her microphone and says, "The answer is no, he never made it out of the plane."

There isn't really a follow-up to that, so the next question takes a completely different tack. "Mr. Jarrah, given the situation in Iraq, do you have any plans to return?"

Tersely, he states, "There is nothing for me in Iraq." Sayid is looking straight ahead, but everyone sees the tight squeeze his hand gives to Shannon's---firm, but too fast for the cameras to catch. Shannon follows his lead and doesn't look at him either, but she gets a schmoopy, warm feeling in her gut. Everyone starts writing furiously again, basking in the glow of the sexy, exotic, island romance.

Things get better after that and the questions focus on less personal, more day-to-day aspects of life. Of course, without Locke's case full of knives, and without Dharma food, they can talk only about fish and fruit and Sun's garden (the reporters start frothing at the mouth again at that one). In a way, having to pretend that all the other craziness---like monsters and Others and hatches and freighters and freaking _polar bears_\---never happened, makes the memory of the past few months easier to deal with. Shannon thinks for a moment that the lie is a blessing in disguise, that is, until thoughts of Sawyer and Claire intrude. They're _people_, not wacko _story elements_ (Jack's term, not hers) that it would probably be healthier to forget.

As things wind down and the questions get easier to answer, someone finally gets the courage to ask, "Ms. Rutherford, Mr. Jarrah, can you tell the press how you got together on the island? The two of you could be poster children for American-Iraqi relations."

Everyone laughs, even some of their fellow survivors. It's the one question that Shannon had planned for in advance, so before Sayid gets over being slightly flustered, she leans confidently forward and says with knowing nonchalance, "After a couple of weeks on the island, I told him one day that we should hang out one Saturday night, and so he took me on a date. A fruit buffet on a beach a couple of miles downshore from our camp. Very romantic." The crowd 'awww's, and Shannon turns to wink at him, but Sayid doesn't seem quite as excited as she does. He isn't angry, but he's always been very private. Shannon's always thought he needed to get over it.

After the conference, they file out to head back to the hotel that the airline is putting them up in for the next couple of days until they finish a lot of paperwork and questions and all sorts of incredibly boring stuff that Shannon isn't in the mood to think about. She _is_ in shock, and after the quick peek into her room that she was afforded for five minutes before the press conference, there's only one thing she currently wants to do about it. She whispers suggestively in Sayid's ear, "There was a king-sized bed in my hotel room. And there's _room service_." She thrills with power to feel him stiffen in excitement.

"We might be the only people in Hawaii who are more interested in room service than the beach," he says with ironic seriousness.

"I think we'll find a way to amuse ourselves," Shannon smirks.


	2. Chapter 2

What follows is pretty much the best time Shannon's ever had. Oceanic keeps them in the posh Honolulu hotel for four days before letting them head back to the Continental US or wherever they want to go. They're free to charge whatever they want to the company. Shannon thinks it's great, but the eternally paranoid Sayid tells her that it's actually because the airline wants to make sure that they're telling the truth. It's a fishy situation, apparently, and there are doubts about their story.

Once he whispers this to her, Shannon can see that he's right. They're always being questioned, and she hates it. It isn't just difficult, it's _dull_. She sits with a scowl on her face whenever anyone dares to bother her, and can't wait until they leave her alone again to meet up with her fellow survivors---well, Sayid and Sun, at least. Hurley's having a Leave It to Beaver-type beach vacation with his folks that, nice as they are, isn't Shannon's deal. Meanwhile, Jack, Kate, Aaron, and Jack's mom are playing a bizarre game of house all over the hotel, while also spending some time with the feds, so they're too busy to hang out. Sun has sent her parents back to Korea, under the pretense that she needs time alone to get over her 'shock'; she doesn't speak to Jack or Kate if she can help it, and so, on the rare occasion when she sees anyone at all, Sun spends her time with Shannon, and by extension, Sayid.

Therefore, Sayid is only person Shannon can talk to on a regular basis, and she likes it like that best anyway. They have a lot of fun; he's like her super serious Ken-doll escort---Iraqi edition. Originally, each of them had their own hotel room, but Shannon asked for an upgrade to a huge suite for herself and Sayid, with the argument that it would cost exactly the same as what Oceanic had been paying to have two rooms. They go shopping, go out to eat, loll around in bed. There are no duties, missions, or projects to distract Sayid, and no physical discomfort to make Shannon cranky. They're both their best selves: Shannon knows she's being sexy and sweet and relaxed---more relaxed than she's ever been in her adult life. This life suits her, she finds. It suits her so much that it terrifies her, because for the first time in more years than she can remember, she's 100% completely _happy_. Well, at least when she isn't thinking about the people they've left behind and everything they've been through. At those times, she's 100% traumatized.

So of course, something has to happen. Because former residents of Craphole Island aren't allowed to be 100% completely happy, not even some of the time.

"I'd like to conduct an investigation," Sayid says one night after dinner. "An investigation into what happened to us, where the danger is coming from, and what it all means. Would you be interested in assisting me?"

Well, it could be worse, she thinks.

"Yeah, sure," she coos from the living room, pouring him another glass of wine.

To be honest, she's been expecting something like this. The very lack of missions and projects that she loves is probably making _him_ antsy. She's also noticed that it always takes awhile for Sayid to calm down after questioning---or to rev up again; Shannon isn't sure what's wrong with him, but he's having some trouble, not so much with the lie, but somehow with the truth.

Shannon wonders if Sayid will be as attractive in the real world as he had been on the island and has been on this unexpected vacation. She has a feeling he will. Sayid's kind of funny, actually. Gone are the cargo pants and wifebeaters. He wears real shirts all the time now, and pressed linen slacks. It takes some getting used to, because Shannon's vision of Sayid has always been that of a wild jungle soldier, not this put-together charmer. He even flat-irons his hair now. Shannon knows better than to tease him about it, and she _does_ think it's really hot, but it takes all her self-control not to crack up laughing as she watches him torture his hair straight with that "I don't take any shit, not even from my hair" expression on his face. In some ways, it scares her, because all cleaned up like this, Sayid starts to look a little like the tough, older Euros Shannon used to go out with. Except nicer, of course. Well, except for the whole former-torturer thing…

Shannon can tell that Sayid is just as happy as she is, but as the day approaches for them to fly back to LA, he sometimes gets a faraway look in his eye sometimes, and when she asks him what's wrong, he says it's nothing. It's the only time she feels like he isn't telling her the truth. She writes it off as nerves over moving to a city he's never lived in before, and with a girl he's only lived with during strange scenarios. She figures he'll get over it and doesn't let it spoil her good time.

*****************************

When they get to LA, they put themselves up in a hotel again. The decision to do that instead of getting an apartment together or separately or anything else is made without discussing it. They both just sort of silently do it. Thinking about it, Shannon assumes it's because neither of them have had a home in so long that they don't know how to make one, much less with another person. They're both nomads. Hotels and sofas and other people's beds and makeshift tents feel more like home to them than anything else.

It's weird at first, of course. Although Shannon had originally thought that living their lives while also living Jack's lie would be no big deal ("it's only a few months of our lives that we're lying about" she'd said), it actually _is_. The only people she has are her fellow survivors.

Shannon had been wanting to show off her fame, her tan, her fake adventure story, her sexy boyfriend, her soon-to-be-wealth---but there's no one left in her life. Shannon hasn't lived in LA in years at this point. She's been to France, to Australia, to England, all over the place, not to mention to the island she isn't allowed to talk about. She's had to fend for herself in ways that her silly prep school friends would never understand. Not that she even has any friends left in LA; they've all left to pursue their degrees at colleges around the country, colleges that Mrs. Carlyle had refused to pay for.

Shannon isn't so caught up in being a celebrity that she can forget that this is the fifteen-minute kind of fame. All the same, she and Sayid get hounded whenever they go out for dinner or to the library (Sayid's new obsession is researching what happened with the crash and the island). He's just as sweet and attentive as ever, but that odd melancholy remains. However, Shannon figures it's just island baggage. They all have it; they just have different ways of manifesting it. Kate steals babies, Sun plots revenge, Sayid gets melancholy, and Shannon wakes up every night from nightmares about all the people who died, dripping water and speaking in tongues like Walt used to do.

One morning, while they're still lounging over breakfast in bed, Shannon gets a call from someone at a law firm. Sayid is surprised, because although they all know they'll be getting settlements from Oceanic, he hasn't yet been contacted, and neither have the others, to his knowledge. Shannon suggests that maybe they're doing them one by one, and maybe she happens to be first. She puts on a 'serious lady' suit and heads to the address.

"So, are all of us coming in today, or is it just me?" she asks the lawyer once she's in his office.

He stares at her, confused. "All of you, who?"

"Hel_looo_," she mocks. "The other Oceanic 815 survivors, obviously."

"Oh, I see. No, this has nothing to do with your friends. I guess my assistant did not inform you. You're here today to discuss the settlement of Boone Carlyle's estate upon you."

"_What?_" Shannon gapes. It shouldn't be so out of left field, given that he's dead and everything, but it's still the last thing she had been thinking about.

"We couldn't start proceedings until your plane had been found. That happened a few weeks before you were rescued. By that time, we had almost finished the paperwork to transfer the funds to next of kin, since you had also apparently passed away. But now that it turns out you're alive after all, you can have what is rightfully yours."

Shannon barely sees what's written on the sheets of paper that he passes to her.

Later, back at the hotel, Sayid mulls it over while absent-mindedly rubbing the scar she carries on her left arm from getting shot by Ana Lucia. "So you see the problem?" she says in conclusion to her description of her confused feelings. "If I take it, I'll feel like a horrible person, and Sabrina can lord it over me. But if I don't take it, _she'll_ get it, and I can't stand that happening."

"Why don't you give the money to a cause he would have felt strongly about? That way, you don't have to give it back to his mother, but you also don't have to feel like you're using it."

It's a really good idea. "But I don't know what he would have wanted to give the money to, if not me." Once the words are out of her mouth, she realizes how awful that sounds. Shannon had never thought about it before, but in some ways, Boone might have been just as lonely and lost as she had been.

"You don't have to do this immediately. There is no rush. Take a few months, take a year, to think about it and make the right choice. I know you will." And he kisses the worry line from her forehead.

Shannon snuggles against him, feeling his confidence in her practically seep through his skin and into hers. "I'll think about it." She rubs the bullet scar on _his_ upper left arm. They have matching ones, both from the island. She thinks of that week he'd sat with her in the hatch, on the bunk bed above Sawyer's. He'd looked after her like she'd never been looked after before, even though Kate could have watched her while taking care of Sawyer. Of course, she hadn't been around to look after him when _he_'d gotten shot. He'd been off on some self-sacrificing mission. Of _course_.

*****************************

One morning, Shannon decides to be really sweet and get breakfast for both of them from a diner a few minutes drive away. She leaves Sayid lolling adorably in bed and extricates herself only after half an hour of being pulled back under the sheets. Not that she minds, of course.

However, when she gets back, he's gone. There's a quick note saying that he'll be back, but there's no explanation and he doesn't pick up his cell phone. Shannon is furious. It's worse than rude… it's _ungentlemanly_, and gentlemanly has been Sayid's shtick since the beginning. Shannon didn't even _want_ chocolate chip pancakes. She picks at them until they're cold, and then goes shopping.

The next day is Boone's 'funeral'. Sabrina, who still isn't speaking to her, has planned the entire thing. The only person Shannon's been able to get on the phone is Sabrina's assistant. Apparently, she's being _allowed_ to do a reading. So, of all the days for Sayid to disappear like this…

Shannon only has one black dress---the one she wore to her father's funeral. And with all the weight fluctuations she's experienced since the crash, it doesn't really fit right now. It's too big and too small all at once and in different places. It takes her most of the day to find something suitable, and she spends half of that time feeling hysterical waves of grief about Boone and hysterical waves of worry about Sayid.

When she gets back, he's sitting on the couch with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.

"Where the hell did you go?" she rages at him, more relieved than angry at his point.

Sayid thinks for a moment and then reaches an arm towards her. She's too mad to come sit on him, so she huffs and goes to put the dress in the closet. "Well?" she repeats.

"While you were out, the front desk called to tell me that Nadia was here," he says softly.

Shannon spins around faster than she knew she was capable. "Nadia… you mean _Nadia_ Nadia?"

Sayid nods.

Shannon can't help it. Her face twists into a horrified contortion. She knows all about Nadia, of course. She knows everything of importance about Sayid, just as he knows everything about her. The two of them had kept having these weird orgies of confession while on the island. It had been like some sort of masochistic challenge to see which of them was the most damaged or the most unworthy… or something. A contest born out of mutual self-loathing to see who could drive the other away first. But both of them had stayed. Anyway, Sayid had told her about this Nadia chick. The girl he'd shot himself for. The girl he'd spent eight years looking for. The girl he'd sold his best friend out for.

But only now does Shannon remember that Nadia was supposed to live in LA these days. It hadn't seemed to matter before. Sayid had bought into Shannon's (Locke's, really) idea of restarting their lives on the island, and except for telling Shannon all about it that one night in their shared tent, he hadn't brought her up. He'd even lost the picture Shannon had caught him looking at a few times during the first few days after the crash when Sayid was still a stranger.

It had sounded like such a dumb story. Boy meets girl after god knows how many years. Boy tortures girl. Boy shoots himself to let girl get away. Boy then spends years looking for girl. Shannon had never really figured out where the whole "falling in love" part was supposed to fit in. It hadn't taken Shannon long to realize that Sayid, for all his tough-guy exterior, was a woobie romantic at heart, but this Nadia business was completely ridiculous. They hadn't been together, they'd never had sex, they'd never even _kissed_, as far as Shannon could tell. What was there to hold a torch for all this time?

"And?" she asks with fake flippancy, busying herself with some uncharacteristic tidying up so that she won't have to see the look on his face. The way he is still looking at her affectionately and yet sadly at the same time. Shannon doesn't like it. It's like he feels sorry… for her or for himself, she doesn't really know.

"And so I went to meet her downstairs in the lobby. I waited for you to come back so I could introduce you, but I must have missed your return. When I finally saw you, you were leaving yet again and gone too quickly for me to call you back." There was something distant in his voice. It was even worse than the look, but Shannon needed to know.

"Sure." The thing is, Shannon knows that he's telling the absolute truth. Sayid pretty much always does unless there's a life or death situation going on. However, she's still pissed off. "So I guess you guys had fun catching up, huh?"

Shannon digs her fingernails into her palms to keep herself from screaming as she listens to him stammer for a second. "It has been a very long time. We had much to talk about. The important thing is that she is finally safe. She has a job and a home and a---"

"And a boyfriend?" Shannon blurts out, hoping the answer is yes.

"No, she does not have that." Sayid is absolutely inscrutable, and it terrifies Shannon.

Shannon purses her lips. "So, you two crazy kids going to hang out again?"

"Possibly," Sayid replies noncommittally. Finally, he seems unable to take her constant motion around the room anymore. "Shannon, please come sit with me," he requests, and she complies. She sits stiffly at first, but as he strokes her hair and kisses her, she softens into him, and they end up sprawled all over the couch, just like nothing's wrong, even though Shannon knows it _is_.

"I love you, Shannon," he says. The problem is that she knows he means it. She lets it go for the rest of the night. It won't do to make a stink about it before knowing how serious this might get or what the best plan of attack is.

Sayid's ability to strategize is rubbing off on her.

Boone's funeral the next day goes fine. Say what one might about Sabrina, the woman does have taste, and the whole affair is spectacular without being gaudy. The whole gang comes---Sun even flies in from Korea---since, even according to the lie, her fellow survivors knew Boone. Shannon's almost thankful to Jack for including that bit, because otherwise, she isn't sure she would have been able to get through the day lying _that_ much. At least she's able to tell a little bit about what a hero Boone was when his old friends crowd around her to ask about her time on the island. It's the first time she's told the lie to people from her pre-conning days, and she finds that she doesn't like it at all. Maybe it's for the best that she has no friends left.

Her reading goes fine. She cries, of course, but not enough to ruin the flow of the words. Jack gives a little speech about their time on the island (Shannon had wanted Sayid to do it, but Sabrina had vetoed the idea). Shannon and her step-mother share one super phony hug for form's sake, but other than that, don't speak. Sayid keeps his arm around her the entire time, even when they spot Jack inexplicably heading over to give his condolences to Sabrina. Sabrina fawns all over the hot doctor, giving him bedroom eyes all while sobbing dramatically for her son.

"What a despicable woman," Sayid whispers savagely for only Shannon and Sun to hear. He has a way with words, Shannon thinks with a rueful smile. And something about his accent give insults that much more bite.

Beside them, Hurley is in tears. Sun gives him a hug. "What's wrong, Hurley?"

"I just wish we could have memorial services for everyone, you know? Like Jin and Sawyer and Charlie and… Libby…"

"I don't want to get on a podium and talk about Jin's death in a plane crash when we all know the truth. Do you want that? Would you want that for Charlie? To pretend he was simply a victim when we all know he died like a hero?" Sun is hard and brusque, but right, and Hurley nods, still crying.

"Plus," Kate, who has just walked towards them, pipes up, "Sawyer isn't dead. None of them are. It would be wrong to hold funerals for them."

There's an awkward pause at Kate's desperate non-sequitor, but Hurley soon continues, "He's gone, though. We'll never see him again, just like we'll never see Boone again. What's the difference?"

Shannon knows that there's a difference somehow, but it's hard to put into words. She thinks about having sat over Boone's body and knowing it was over, forever. That's different from imagining Sawyer on the disappeared island.

Out of the silence, Sayid's voice begins explaining, "I know what is like to think of someone as lost and possibly dead. I also know what it is like to have them miraculously come back. Trust me, Hurley, Sawyer being gone is very different from Boone being gone. The difference is hope."

Shannon shoots Sayid a threatening look that he doesn't even notice. Yep. A way with words.

Dammit.  


*****************************

Shannon never really gets a chance to strategize because it all starts unraveling so quickly. Saint Nadia shows up at their hotel room door a few days later. Sayid doesn't notice that Shannon smiles at Nadia in exactly the same way that she smiles at Sabrina, but then again, he's a man, and they almost never notice that stuff. Nadia smiles right back, sizing Shannon up appreciatively, and Shannon feels a burst of confidence, because she's _way_ hotter than Nadia, and Nadia knows it.

"You are so beautiful," Nadia admits sweetly. "And so brave. Everything I've heard about what happened to all of you… and Sayid has told me what an inspiration you were to him, and what a comfort."

"He did?" Shannon blushes. Sayid's never told her that---not in so many words, although his looks and kisses over the past few months had all said basically that. If he's told Nadia that, then maybe everything will be alright after all.

"Tea?" Sayid offers. The three of them sit down for an intensely awkward little tea party. Although Nadia and Sayid both make efforts to include Shannon, the conversation continually shifts to people she doesn't know and places she's never been. It's all so intense and tragic (god, has _everyone_ they've ever known died?) that Shannon starts feeling like a silly little girl who can't keep up. She's bored enough to want to leave, but she refuses. She is _not_ going to lose the only person she has left to this ex-militant lab assistant, or whatever she is.

The visit is only the first of many, each just as excluding. They see her so often that Sayid ceases to have any time or show any interest in the island research that had so consumed him. To be fair, he remains just as darling as ever, both while Nadia is there and when she isn't, but there's something lost-little-boy about him, lurking behind his eyes. He never looked liked that on the island, not even when they were being terrorized by the Others or those scary fuckers from the freighter. Shannon tries everything---dates, sex, kisses, foot rubs, anything he wants---but nothing works to get it to go away. All the while, Nadia keeps coming by or meeting them for lunch, smiling her confident little Mona Lisa smile. Shannon wants to throttle her.

Despite everything, Sayid remains very good about not going off with her alone. Every time he sees Nadia, it's in the awkward company of Shannon, or else they go somewhere with Hurley, leaving Shannon to hang out by herself. One day, Nadia mentions that she's had some legal training (is there anything this bitch hasn't done?) and Sayid mentions that Kate might want someone she can trust to talk to. They call up Kate, who loves the idea.

"Would you mind babysitting Aaron while we go over the case? I'm sure you aren't interested in it," Nadia suggests. Why they need to do it separately from her Shannon can't imagine, and she's about to say as much when Sayid butts in.

"Shannon isn't very good with children, Nadia," he explains with a fond twinkle in his eye. Shannon stops herself from snarling. She knows that Sayid is just teasing her, but being ostensibly put down in front of her rival is _not_ what Shannon needs right now.

"What are you talking about? Aaron _loves_ me. I used to watch him whenever Cl… whenever _Kate_ was… I used to watch him a lot, ok?" she finishes lamely after tripping over a couple of almost-truths. She's asked Sayid before why he hasn't yet told Nadia about the island. It's the one thing Shannon can really hold onto these days. He and Nadia can't really be that close if he's still lying to her, she reasons. Shannon wants him to say that it's because Nadia can't be trusted or that it's because she isn't one of them, but his answer is usually something about how 'she isn't ready' and 'I'm not ready', which doesn't make any sense, but whatever. It's still something. It's still victory.

So, grudgingly but with a big smile, Shannon agrees to babysit Aaron the next day while Sayid and Nadia sit with Kate. Shannon can tell that they consider her useless at all this, so she takes the baby to the beach. It's supposed to be easy enough: give the baby a bottle every few hours, burp it, and change its diaper. Shannon is completely grossed out, but it's the first real project she's had to do in awhile, so she doesn't mind it _too_ much. The kid sleeps most of the time, so it could be a whole lot worse.

She lets herself back into Kate's house late in the evening, but no one is home. Shannon puts the baby in his crib and flops into the nearby couch. The sun and the babysitting have taken it out of her, and soon she drifts off to sleep. The next thing she knows, sunlight is streaming through the curtains and Aaron is crying. Shannon stirs, wondering for a second where she is before she remembers. Kate comes in and helps Shannon to her feet.

"Seems like you slept well," she says as she bends over to pick Aaron up.

"I stayed here all night?" she asks groggily.

"Yeah. We went out to dinner, and by the time we came back, you were already asleep up here. Sayid and Nadia said it would be a shame to wake you."

"Where's Sayid?" Shannon asks, rubbing her eyes.

"He went back to your hotel after we decided to let you stay here. He said to call and that he'd come pick you up whenever you wanted to leave."

"Oh." It's all perfectly logical, but Shannon doesn't like it one bit. "And Nadia?"

Kate looks uncomfortable. "He was going to drop her off on his way home."

There's an awkward pause. Much as Shannon isn't all that hot on Kate, she _is_ one of the only friends she has left, and one of even fewer people who could possibly understand what's going on. Putting Aaron down and shushing him, Kate hugs Shannon tightly. "Look, I know what you're thinking, and I know why, but… I don't think you have to worry. I know Sayid, too. He's the most stand-up guy I've ever met."

"I know that!" she yells, irrationally taking her anger out on Kate and pulling back. "I'm not worried. There's nothing to worry about. I'm going to call him now. I hope _Nadia_ was able to help you with your… whatever yesterday."

Kate gets Aaron again. "Actually, she did," she whispers.

Sayid picks up right away and is at Kate's house within the hour. As soon as she sees him, she knows that Kate was right; Sayid would never cheat. He's hers. He's said so. He's promised never to leave her. Shannon has absolutely nothing to worry about.

"So, I've been thinking," Shannon says during the ride, "We've been in this hotel for weeks. It feels like we're on vacation, which is nice and everything but… I kinda miss having, you know, multiple rooms, and a kitchen to warm stuff up in when I feel like it. I was thinking we should start looking at houses. You know, something more normal. What do you think?" She knows that her stuttering and general incoherence are terribly transparent, and yet she can't help herself. She needs some sort of affirmation.

Sayid keeps his eyes on the road. "Yes, we have been here for some time."

It isn't really an answer, so Shannon leans over to nibble seductively along his neck. "So what do you think, Sayid?"

"We can start looking, if you would like." He couldn't sound less excited, and something inside Shannon snaps.

"Do you still love me?" she asks. It's humiliating, but she needs something else to hold onto.

Sayid looks at her, blankness turning into sadness turning into wistful affection. "Of course I do."

They drive quietly for a few minutes. "So, what should we do today? How about we spend it all in bed, getting up only to order room service?" She twirls her hair at him, her meaning all too clear.

Sayid frowns and then clears his throat. "I was thinking we should visit Hurley. He's been unhappy recently, and I'm afraid he'll break down and let something slip."

Shannon slumps into her seat, defeated, and gives up.

They get back to the hotel and Sayid phones Hurley. Shannon feigns a headache and asks to be excused from the visit. As soon as Sayid kisses her goodbye and leaves, she makes a couple of calls, goes downstairs to the hotel boutique, and buys a suitcase. She and Sayid had come here with nothing except the clothes on their backs, but over the course of the past few weeks, they've accumulated quite a lot of possessions---especially Shannon. She packs up her belongings, calls the front desk to order a cab, and slips on the gorgeous strappy stilettos she bought a few days ago. Even though she knows that Sayid isn't insecure about his height, she still hasn't worn them for some reason. On her way out, she writes a note that she props up on his pillow.

_I don't need a pity boyfriend. You said you'd never leave me, and I know you like to keep promises, so I'll make this easy for you. _

It would be the most unselfish thing she's ever done, if only she felt that he were still hers to give up.


	3. Chapter 3

Seoul is no LA, but it's cool, and Sun's apartment is _gorgeous_, although, not in a style that Shannon would have picked out. Where Shannon's tastes run to sunny pastels and cutesy California designs, Sun's place is decked out in browns and creams and straight lines. By the end of her second day, Shannon's things are already strewn all over her room and much of the living room.

"Oh fuck. I'll clean that up, I promise," Shannon says after spilling half a bottle of Diet Coke on the rug.

Sun turns around in her desk chair to glance at her. "It doesn't matter. The maid is coming tomorrow."

It's exactly the right answer, and Shannon heaves a contented sigh as she plops on the couch. "I love it here!" she squeals with a girlish little knee kick. Sun winks at her before going back to her reading, something financial, presumably to help her understand her father's business. Sun's been doing a lot of financial stuff recently, between preparing for her secret purchase of Paik Industries and also finding wealth management people to handle the investment of her Oceanic settlement.

Shannon watches Sun for a moment, the smile lingering on her face. It's encouraging to remember sometimes that in a lot of ways, she and Sun started out very similarly: two pretty, privileged girls who weren't brought up to deal with difficulties or loneliness. But ever since the crash, things _have_ been hard, and when Shannon moved in here, they were both terribly alone. Sun's been dealing with everything admirably, and if anything, the girl crush Shannon has long had on the older woman has increased since seeing where she's from.

Taking Sun up on the offer she'd made when Shannon had called her that morning had been an easy decision. The only thing in LA for Shannon had been Sayid, and even halfway around the world isn't quite far enough to run to escape the humiliation she feels. He calls eight times in those first few days, but Shannon refuses to pick up. Two of the missed calls come with desperate (well, desperate for Sayid) voicemails asking her to please call him. Finally, he gives up and calls Sun.

"More than anything, he wants to know that you're alright," Sun dishes afterwards to Shannon, who, by the time the call is over, is watching _Friends_ in the living room, unable to read the subtitles because she's brooding too hard.

"Of course he does," Shannon snits. That hurts worse than anything. He isn't sorry that he dumped her, he isn't feeling conflicted, he isn't begging her to come back or regretting what he's lost: he's just checking up on her, in the same way that Jack or any other person who only cares about her in a general way would.

"I'm so sorry, Shannon," Sun comforts her.

"It's fine." Sometimes there is nothing to be said. The great thing about Sun has always been that she usually seems to get it, so after a few minutes, she stands up and goes back to her desk.

Knowing that a change of subject is in order, Sun announces, "My detective has finally gotten me the first report on Widmore. He's a slippery man, but we will get him one day for what he did to us. To Jin."

Sayid may have slowly lost interest in figuring out what had happened to them as soon as Nadia had come on the scene, but by moving in with Sun, Shannon has been thrust right back into "research". She knows that she ought to come to Sun's comfort as Sun had come to hers, but she's distracted by the fact that she suddenly gets a total brainwave on something that's been bothering her for awhile.

"Hey, Sun?" she calls. "Do you think I could hire your detective agency to do a job for me? There's someone I want to find."

*****************************

Shannon prides herself on being able to handle _anything_. In less than two months, she's made herself quite at home in Korea. Necessity has forced her to learn enough Korean to get around. She's queen bee of the expat community, in with all of Sun's society friends from high school even though Sun doesn't really hang out with them anymore. Shannon's even been invited to dinner with dignitaries. She's the only American celebrity living in Seoul, and the fact that she's living with one of Korea's biggest celebrities only adds to her visibility and notoriety. She's followed everywhere, much more visible here than she would have been in LA, where there are infinitely more famous people on every block.

She goes on dates---she's _real_ popular with the boys---but it never turns into anything, for a variety of reasons. For one, she's too busy traveling. Rome, Hong Kong, Moscow, Dubai---Seoul is more of a base than a home she returns to after traipsing around the world looking for something… what, she doesn't know. She doesn't have that great of a time on any of her trips; either it's too hot or too crowded or she doesn't understand the language or the hotel is crappy or…

The other reason it never works out with any of the guys is that except for Sayid, sex and boyfriends have always been means to an end, and now there's no end that she's after. She has more than enough money to keep her in high style for the rest of her life. She has Sun for a BFF, society people to hang out with, and photographers for admirers. What need has she for a boyfriend?

One night, as she's snuggled into the sheets of her huge bed, Shannon turns on CNN and catches the tail end of the daily death toll in Iraq.

"It never gets any better, does it?" Shannon quips as Sun walks by her door to wave goodnight. "Like, I thought the war had already ended _before_ we crashed, you know?"

"Shannon, wait…" Sun begins to sputter as she realizes what Shannon is watching, but her English, fluent as it is, is not quick enough. The newscaster's tone has already switched from the somber hues appropriate to war stories and now he's ready to launch into something lighter.

"And speaking of Iraq, today has been a happy day for one of its most famous citizens. Sayid Jarrah and his childhood love Nadia have tied the knot in a private ceremony in Los Angeles."

There's an accompanying photo---the famous one---of him with his arms around Kate and Aaron just out of the raft that they showed up at Mimbatu in. Shannon's nose twitches in rage. They show a picture of him and _Kate_, of all people?

The reporter continues. "Before reconnecting with his new bride, Mr. Jarrah was dating Shannon Rutherford, a fellow survivor of Oceanic 815 with whom he started a relationship during their time stranded on an uninhabited island in the South Pacific." A photo of the first press conference flashes by, showing Sayid holding Shannon's hand and looking at her lovingly.

"All of the other members of the Oceanic Seven wish their fellow castaway the greatest happiness. And now, in other news…"

Shannon doesn't hear what follows. Words come out of the television speakers, but they're nothing more than a drone. As the mattress dips down, Shannong feels, rather than sees, Sun sitting slowly down beside her on the bed.

"All of us? _All_ of us sent congratulations?" Shannon lashes out at her roommate.

Sun sighs. "There was a phone call a little while ago from my assistant. She said some reporters had called asking for a statement. I answered for both of us. I thought it would be easier that way. I was going to tell you in the morning. I'm so sorry."

Sun reaches out to touch Shannon's hand, which is still clutching the remote like a vise, but Shannon snaps it out of reach. She turns off the television and rudely switches off the lamp even though Sun is still sitting there. Automatically, she snaps, "There's nothing to be sorry about. It's fine. They're really happy. I'm happy. Thanks for making the call."

"Shannon…" Sun begins softly.

Shannon's voice is brittle and choked but she doesn't break. "I'll see you in the morning, ok? I'm really tired."

Sun sighs and presses her hands into the bed on either side of her hips. With a deep grunt, she pushes herself slowly up. Breathing deeply, her hand floats to rest atop her increasingly enormous belly.

"Goodnight, Shannon," she says sadly on her way out.

Shannon slinks miserably under the covers. The photos from the news dance through her mind in the darkness. It's as if her brain is now a photo album, and she's looking at herself from a third persona's perspective. Sayid and Shannon as a united front against Cruella de Carlyle. Sayid and Shannon at the press conference in the picture shown on the news. Sayid and Shannon eating room service in bed and laughing so hard that they almost spill red wine on the cream-colored sheets. Sayid and Shannon taking serious advantage of the bunk beds during hatch duty. Sayid and Shannon huddled together in their shared tent sharing their most private secrets with one another.

She isn't even sure what she's so sad about. It's been over for awhile. Nadia had long been a dream for him and now she's a reality, and Shannon, who had been a reality during his three-month-long nightmare, has faded right out of his life. She is nothing more than a tether to a bad trip, in every sense of the word.

Whatever. It isn't like he's that great of a guy, anyway. He's a torturer and a murderer and kind of a prick and his fingernails are ickily too long.

All the same, Shannon cries herself to sleep.

The following morning, she borrows Sun's ginormous D&amp;G sunglasses to cover her puffy eyes. She smiles wide for the two paparazzo who flash at her and goes in for some retail therapy, but everything she tries on makes her look fat. After an exhausting day of aimless wandering, she goes home empty-handed, heads for the bathroom, and sticks her finger down her throat. It's the first time she's puked since before the crash, but even as she sinks to the floor, gripping the sides of the toilet bowl with white knuckles and expelling the contents of her lunch, she knows it will be her last. It doesn't make her feel in control like it used to. It just makes her feel worse, like she's regressing to the pathetic person she used to be.

By the time Sun gets home, Shannon has gotten rid of the smell and ordered an extravagant flower arrangement of pink roses and lilies for the living room. Sun gives her a hug and doesn't force her to talk about anything.

The next day, Shannon picks up smoking.


	4. Chapter 4

Sun urges her not to go, and a part of Shannon wants to listen, but in the end, the self-destructive fame-whore in her wins. She knows she's being a bad friend, leaving Sun alone and heavily pregnant in order to go to a funeral for someone she never met, doesn't care about, and who died ten months ago. But although she's doing fine here taking care of Sun, Shannon's been secretly itching for LA, for America, for something more familiar, if only for a few days. And yeah, Sayid might be there---fine, will most likely be there---but she isn't sure if she's dreading that fact or looking forward to it. Like a moth to the flame, she figures with a toss of her hair as she tells Sun firmly that she's going.

LA is just as she left it, except colder because now there really is nothing for her there. She hates feeling like a tourist in her own hometown. It uncharacteristically rains almost every day, which ruins her sightseeing hopes. Shannon makes a lunch date with a girl from high school who had emailed her a few weeks before, but the girl ends up flaking. She starts to think this was an even worse idea than she'd feared.

Living with Sun has cut her off from the rest of the survivors in a way that not just distance could achieve; Sun _really _hates Jack and Kate, and, whether or not she agrees with Sun's anger, it's hard for her roommate's feelings not to have rubbed off on Shannon even a little bit. Between that and the whole business with Sayid, Hurley's pretty much the only one she's still completely okay with. However, the visit is going so badly that by the time she's in her rental car and driving to the memorial service, Shannon's actually _excited_ at the prospect of seeing Jack and the rest of them.

She spots them all huddled together as soon as she gets out of her car. Jack beckons her with a wave, and Hurley ruins Shannon's efforts at a sexy sashay by running up to her and grabbing her in a bear hug.

"Hey," she says quickly, focusing her attention on Jack and Kate. Kate's trial still hasn't started, and she's looking just as stressed out as she did months ago when they'd last seen each other. Out of the corner of her eye, Shannon can see Nadia murmur a hello. Shannon purposefully doesn't look at Sayid, but she can see his shape hovering in the corner of her eye, daring her to turn her head just a little bit more.

"When did you get in?" Jack asks.

"Day before yesterday. I slept most of the first day," she lies.

"How is Sun?" Sayid asks. His normally high level of concern is evident, and it grates on Shannon's nerves. Not a question about her, not an acknowledgment of anything having to do with _her_. Only Sun. She wonders if that's exactly the same way that he asked Sun about her over the phone, wonders if she means no more to him than Sun does. Wonders if she ever did.

She finally looks at him as she says it, and her annoyance drops. Behind the wall he's trying to put up, Shannon can see that he's nervous. It's a victory, if only a small one. "Really big now. The baby's due in another couple of weeks. But _we're_ doing just fine," she says, as pleasantly as possible, even though she knows it comes out pretty bitchily and that her voice shakes.

"That's, uh, good to hear," Hurley stammers. He's never been good at awkward situations, even ones that don't involve him.

Getting back to the topic they'd been talking about before Shannon's arrival, Nadia pats the golden fuzz that's finally starting to grow on Aaron's bald head and coos, "Hello, my sweet." Then, looking up to smile at Kate, she adds, "He grows more like you every day, I swear."

The adoration in Nadia's voice makes it clear that she means the comment with the most genuine sort of cluelessness. Everyone stiffens, and Kate looks as though she's going to be sick. Hurley breaks the uncomfortable and damning silence by wheezing out a laugh and murmurs, "Yeah, he does, doesn't he… right, Jack?"

While Jack stammers his agreement, Sayid, standing just behind Nadia, makes eye contact with Shannon. A split second lasts for longer than it should before Shannon's shocked expression forces Sayid's eyes downward. But during that time, Shannon can feel her face curling into a nose-twitching scowl of disbelief.

Sayid hasn't told his wife. Nadia still believes the lie.

There's no real reason to feel this outraged, but Shannon does.

It's not just that he picked Nadia over her. It's that he picked the _lie_ over her. He's picked a world in which there were no date beaches or romantic tents-for-two. He's picked a world in which the only reason he was with her was because Jack had claimed Kate, Sun was a freshly minted widow, and Shannon was just _there_, not because he'd picked her or wooed her or had anything else to. A romance in those circumstances is easily written off. But that isn't what happened.

With a pang, Shannon realizes that she feels totally alone in this crowd, with these people who are supposed to be the only ones she can be honest around. She wishes Sun were here, or that she'd listened to her and never left Korea.

"Well," she says, trying to regain her composure, "I actually think he looks a lot like _Jack_." She means it to be stupidly obnoxious, to make all of them uncomfortable, but the creepy thing is that once the words are out of her mouth, Shannon realizes that it's true. The kid _does_ look like Jack, which is weird and gross and not ok.

She can tell that everyone else sees it, too. There's a horrified silence that is broken by Jack's mother coming over to tell them that the service is about to start.

It's a perfectly nice ceremony, as memorial services go. Jack gives a good speech, and everyone pays their respects to a guy who was clearly an asshole if you read between the lines. As soon as it's over and people start milling about, Nadia immediately starts fussing over Kate and the goddamn baby again. _It isn't even hers!_ Shannon wants to scream, but she is sidetracked from her irrational rage by Sayid, who takes his wife's distraction as an opportunity to beckon Shannon into the hallway. Nadia notices---eyes like a hawk, that one, despite the seemingly sweet disposition---but continues talking to Kate and Aaron like nothing is happening. As she follows Sayid, Shannon dies a little inside to realize that Nadia isn't even jealous. She poses _that_ little of a threat.

"What do you want, Sayid?" Shannon's voice is hard and tired, and at this point, she doesn't even know what she wants him to say. She doesn't know what there is _to_ say. She just wants to go back home and order take-out with Sun… home. Seoul is home. Shannon hasn't thought of a place as home in so long that the revelation is shocking. No matter how demoralizing the past couple of days have been and what awful conversation she's about to have with her now-married ex, Shannon suddenly feels glad that she came here, if only to have figured that out.

"We never had a chance to talk," he pleads. "I hate the thought that you left feeling… I do not even know what you were feeling. You never told me." He's using that soft, romantic voice he used to use only with her. He seems weirdly desperate right now, and Shannon remembers figuring out way back when that he'd never really had that much experience with women. A bunch of one-night stands, yes---he's too much of a sexy mofo not to---but relationships, no. Good at wooing but not the long haul, kind of like Shannon herself, actually. Between the army and his stupid Nadia pining, he'd never had much of a chance before Shannon. She almost pities him. _Almost_.

"There wasn't anything to talk about. You were clearly still interested in her. I'm not pathetic enough to stick around when I know I'm going to get dumped."

Sayid reaches out and takes her hand. "Shannon, I never wanted---"

"Exactly." Shannon snatches her hand back. They stare at one another, seething with a lot of emotions that neither of them quite know how to bring up. He may be older, but in a few ways, they're on the same level. Maybe that's why it had worked for as long as it had. As she usually does when things get too intense, Shannon deflects back to small talk. "So," she snaps with a trembling attempt at nonchalance, "what have you been up to?"

Sayid looks just as ashamed as he should when he gives into the change of topic and answers, "Not very much. It has taken time to accustom myself to this life of leisure. Nadia and I have spent much of our time setting up house."

"Uh-huh," Shannon deadpans before she explodes again. The attempt at civility has totally failed. "What happened to us doing all that research to find out what happened to us? What happened to finding a way to rescue the people we left behind? You totally dropped that as soon as _she_ showed up. Because you're in denial, and she's giving you a way out. But you know what? Sun and I have kept working on it. We're the ones getting stuff done while you sit here and… play pretend with your new wife like nothing bad ever happened. Who's the useless one now?"

"I never said you were useless. Quite the contrary, if you remember."

It's true, and that somehow gets her even more riled up. "You know what? For all your torturing and killing and soldiering and whatever, you're a coward. That's all. It's easier for you to sit around with this clueless woman and convince yourself that even _you_ believe all the crap we've been saying. You can stay here and hide behind the lie and pretend that everything is hunky-dory and that you landed in LA and found Nadia just like you thought you would, but you and I both know that isn't what happened. Your marriage is just as much of a lie as the one we've been telling. Only now you're telling it to yourself." It feels amazing to lash out at him like this, to tell him all the things she'd figured out over the past few months. Granted, some of these ideas are Sun's, but that makes them no less true.

Sayid looks like he's been slapped, which in effect, he has. He swallows a few times, his mathematical brain broken by her assault. "Shannon, I know you were hurt, but…"

"Oh, shut it, Sayid. Just shut up. You always used to like to play the hero. If there was one person who could have figured out how to fix this, how to save the people we left behind, I thought it would be you." She snorts. "Guess I was wrong. Guess _you _care about other people even less than everyone thinks _I_ do. Doesn't it bother you?"

"Of course it does," Sayid replies quietly.

Then do something about it." This is as good a time as any to make a dramatic exit, and so Shannon does, finally able to pull off the sexy sashay that Hurley had interrupted earlier.

Shannon realizes that there really _is_ something to all this closure stuff that people always talk about. It's not like these particular unresolved issues have been keeping her up at nights (she has eerily vivid nightmares of left-behind survivors serving that purpose), but Shannon feels better than she has in months, and only part of that is due to the satisfaction of having managed to stick it to such a normally superior bastard.

She returns to Seoul a new woman. As soon as she gets home, Sun waddles excitedly to her with an envelope.

"It finally came! They finally found him!" she cries as Shannon rips it open. It's been so long since she put in the call to the investigator that for a moment she doesn't even remember what this is supposed to be about. She assumes that it's some Widmore-related breakthrough until she reads the letter. Sun's guys really _are_ thorough. There's a picture and an address and a detail and everything.

"Hey! This is great!"

That evening, despite her jet-lag, Shannon sits down at her desk and writes a check for the amount of the inheritance she got from Boone. She also takes out a notepad and bites her pen while she thinks of what to write.

_Hey Walt, _

_How's it going? Just wanted to let you know that Vincent was fine last time I saw him. Sorry I couldn't bring him back with me, but you know... Anyway, consider this from Boone, not from me. I think he would have wanted you to have this. Oh, and if you want a financial advisor on what to do with it, the guy who'll get you this is really good. He'll tell you what to do. Just don't tell anyone I gave you his name or that this is from me, because we're not supposed to know each other and all. Have fun in New York. Sun sends her love! Maybe one day we'll come visit you._

_-Shannon_

She wonders if she should mention his dad, let him know about what happened on the freighter, but she just can't. She tells herself that the kind of kid who creepily appears to people like that probably would know, right? She wants to believe it, at least. She wraps the check and the note up in a package to send off to her banker to deal with the next day and smiles. Sayid had been right. It had taken some time, but she's made the right choice about what to do with the money. For the first time ever, she feels at peace about Boone. He'd be happy. She has a feeling he _is_ happy.


	5. Chapter 5

Sun's baby is born less than a week after Shannon gets back from LA. Much as Shannon had bitched Sayid out for not doing his share of investigating, even they have to take a break, although not for long, because even though baby duty is _tiring_ (not to mention gross), Sun is _obsessed_.

Shannon spends the next few months running Sun's non-baby errands. She adamantly abstains from any duties that would make her a second mother to Ji Yeon, but secretly, she kind of likes being an aunt. Whenever the three of them are out and Sun's attention is distracted, Shannon happily accepts compliments on the baby's cuteness, even though no one could ever honestly think it was hers.

Hurley comes for a visit, which turns out to be great, actually. Before his visit, Seoul was a separate place, a refuge from everything that came before, but with Hurley in the apartment with them, it's like everything comes crashing together: Seoul, LA, the island, the baby, the past, the present. However, instead of being scary, Shannon realizes that it's actually fine. Hurley's visit is short, but good, except for one thing... Late one night, Shannon wakes up to hear Hurley yelling in his sleep in the same way that Sun says Shannon sometimes yells in her sleep. Either it's totally normal or they're all crazy. Shannon doesn't bring it up with Hurley. She doesn't want to know what it is that he sees, not that she really needs to ask.

It also doesn't help that soon after the visit, he checks into a mental hospital.

No one else comes---they don't even call---which is kind of awful, really. However, it doesn't dampen Shannon's good time. In fact, she's actually past caring. Shannon has found that ever since the memorial service, she's just been over it, over the others. This is home now, and she's as happy as someone with a psycho secret hanging over her can be.

Shannon had mentally prepared herself to dedicate these few months to being a good friend in a way that she'd never actually been before, but no matter the strength of her intended dedication, life never fails to surprise. In the middle of all her errand-running, Shannon actually meets a really hot guy. He's Danish, and very, very serious. Apparently serious is her type now. Who knew? Anyway, his name's Hansel, and he's so serious that he doesn't even know that's so hot right now or why it's funny. They meet one day at her favorite cocktail lounge. He recognizes her from the television and the magazines, but he's actually more interested in her life right now. She doesn't have to trot out the same lies, which is refreshing. And he's so obviously ridiculously rich that she doesn't have to worry that he's just dating her because she's loaded. Sun's super excited for her and helps her pick out an outfit for each of their dates. Shannon's rarely been taken out on dates before, so there isn't much to compare this to, but she still enjoys herself.

Everything's coming together.

*****************************

Of course, a little bump comes along.

It's just like the wedding all over again, except this time it's about a funeral. Sun and Shannon find out only because the papers call them for a statement. And then they turn on CNN and see a blurb about it. Sayid looks like puppy whose tail has been cut off. It's the single most heartbreaking thing Shannon's ever seen in her life, and that's saying a lot.

"You should call," Sun urges. "If you want to go to---"

Sun is right; Sayid _does_ need someone right now, but it isn't Shannon. She knows that, deep down. Sayid needs a guy, not her. Someone who gets it. For the first time in weeks, Shannon thinks about Desmond. She wishes that he didn't have to be in hiding. He was a really nice guy, and he and Sayid had been weirdly BFF. She'd never really gotten it. It must have been the curly-haired, die-hard, romantic-with-an-accent thing. At any rate, it's Desmond whom Sayid needs right now. Not Shannon.

"No. It's none of my business," she says with shaky finality, still staring at the screen. She makes herself turn towards Sun so she can change the subject. "So… where do you want to get take-out from tonight?"

Sun looks horrified, but Shannon knows she can't possibly reprimand her. Sun's been just as stone cold about other stuff.

Sayid's face in the news report becomes another thing to add to the list of images that come to her in her sleep, but that's about it. It's easier than she expects for Shannon to put it out of her mind and go on with her life, which in itself kind of scares her. She's always been good at things, but she'd never realized before that repression was one of them. At least, she hopes it's repression, because simply not caring at all would be too much like the old Shannon.

*****************************

  
Hansel invites her on a romantic getaway to Vienna, but Shannon waits until Sun has finished breast-feeding and needs her a little less. The weekend marks the point at which this becomes the longest relationship she's ever been in. Hansel is nice, has taken it slow, has done everything right, and seems interested in her---but not so interested that she has to watch what she says around him. In fact, he's been so easy-going and perfect that she's been toying with the idea of telling him everything. The more he doesn't ask, the more she starts to want to tell. Shannon hasn't mentioned this desire to anyone, not even to Sun, because she knows the reception it'll get, but she's thinking about it. A lot. It's not like she's in love or anything… As far as she's concerned, it's just a long-term hook-up, really, but Hansel's the closest thing to a new _friend_ she has made since the rescue, and that means way more to Shannon than the boyfriend part of it.

She checks her phone in the taxicab from the airport and there's a super cute text message from Hansel telling her where to go and which room he's in. Seoul to Vienna is a long fucking trip, and she's exhausted as hell, but Shannon perks up in the taxi to the hotel. She can practically taste the Dom Perignon that awaits her.

So, it's with that much more of a shock when, as she's walking down the hallway of the fifth floor of the Hotel Imperial towards their room, Shannon sees Sayid. He looks ridiculous… hot, but ridiculous. He's taken his flat-ironed ways to a whole other level, strutting around black leather like he's Bono or something. He stops in his tracks, the sight of her breaking his strut.

"Shannon? What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing? What are _you_ doing here?" An idea floats through her mind. It doesn't make any sense, but she can't imagine a scenario that _would_ make sense, so she blurts it out. "Are you stalking me or something?"

"Stalking you? No. You are supposed to be in Korea." She can see that she's as wrong as she suspected, because the weird little mask of badassery falls, and he gets that genuinely confused look he used to get sometimes---usually when she said something really girly.

"Yeah, but I'm allowed to take a vacation, aren't I? Wait, what are you doing?" she adds when he grabs her elbow and starts dragging her in the opposite direction from her room.

"We need to leave," he spits. "We can talk outside."

Shannon shakes free of his grasp. "No. Someone's waiting for me. My boyfriend."

There's no jealousy in his reaction, just as there is no smugness in her proclamation. But it still staggers him, for some wholly other reason. "Your boyfriend? Who is he?" Sayid stutters. She's never heard him stutter before and somehow that unsettles her more than anything else.

"A guy named Hansel."

"Oh my god," he mutters, but Shannon ignores him.

In the tiny part of her brain that is observing this scene instead of participating, she notes that this is hardly the conversation she expected to have with him the next time they met. They should be talking about Nadia, and his grief, and what it was like for him to have to go back to Iraq for the funeral after he'd vowed never to go back there again. She should be offering condolences, not doing… this. It's all wrong, and Shannon both can't and doesn't want to deal with it, so she breaks free again and runs down the hallway, hoping that if she can only get back on track, it'll all be okay. She pounds on the door from the text. "Hey, it's Shannon! Let me in!"

But Sayid's on her again, trying to pull her away. "Go away!" she hisses, even though it's becoming increasingly clear what is going on, even though she doesn't want to accept it.

"Shannon, he isn't going to open the door," he says quietly. Sayid's eyes tell the truth even more painfully than his words. That tragic, guilty look is back, the one he used to get when he thought about all the terrible things he'd done. "He's dead."

"What have you done?!"

Sayid pulls her in close, wrapping her securely in his arms to keep her from thrashing. If anyone were to walk by, it would look like a hug. He speaks very quickly, scarily comforting even as he tells her to do horrible things. "Shannon, you have to listen to me. You have to be brave. You need to go downstairs and tell them that he must have stepped out. If he was expecting you, he probably left your name with them. Ask for a second key, and then come back up here, open the door, and when you see the body---"

"Sayid," she tries to begin, tears now flowing. It's like the nightmare of the island is back. It has somehow found her even in this posh hotel.

"Shhh, I know," he tries to soothe, but not really, because he keeps going anyway. "When you see the body, and run back down to the front desk to report the death. The hotel will apologize for your discomfort by assigning you a new room. The police will come, ask you to tell them about finding him in the room, and then they will bid you goodnight. That is all you have to do." He slips a tiny cell phone into her coat pocket.

"All _All?_?" Shannon isn't sure what she's more upset about---the fact that Sayid's killing again or the fact that even after all she's been through, she's still handling this like a wuss. The fact that Hansel is dead somehow doesn't feel real or important. "What the holy fuck is going on? You're going to jail, Sayid! This isn't the island. This isn't a war. You can't just shoot people and… and…"

"He wasn't shot. The autopsy will reveal that he had a heart attack. No foul play."

"He's thirty!" Shannon protests, but deep down she knows that if Sayid wants them to think it's a heart attack, that's what they'll believe.

"It can happen. They will never connect it to either of us if you play your part. I'm very thorough." He's like ice as he utters the words.

"Not thorough enough to know that he was _my_ boyfriend, apparently! Any anyway…" Shannon looks around the hallway. "Isn't there some sort of security camera that is looking at us right now and saw you come out of there?"

Sayid smiled grimly. "No. This hotel lacks that feature. It was why a suggestion was made to his secretary to book this one."

"Ugh!" Shannon gasps as the full weight of the cold-blooded insanity that's going on hits her again. "I can't believe we're even having this conversation. I can't believe this is happening."

"I had no idea you were coming. If I had, things would have been very different. I'm so sorry. But he was an enemy, you have to believe me. He was going to hurt you."

Shannon is proud of herself for being able to command logic at such a moment. "If you didn't even know we were dating, how do you know he was going to hurt me? You're crazy, do you know that?"

He completely ignores her. "I am not crazy, but you _must_ do this," he urges, in his usual calm and earnest manner, as though they're back on the island and he wants her to light a signal fire or something totally normal. "And you must do it now. It is the only way to make sure that you stay safe. Please. I could never let anything happen to you. That would…"

"It would what?"

"I need to keep you safe," he answers, by way of non-explanation.

Shannon knows there's nothing else to do but what he's asking. "I'll only do it if you promise to meet me later and explain."

Sayid looks around shiftily. He clearly doesn't want to, but she has him in a corner. "Use this phone to call me. The number is programmed."

She leaves him without another word and stomps back downstairs. It all works exactly as he said it would. The hotel people warmly greet 'Fraulein Rutherford' and give her a keycard. She goes up and finds Hansel lying face down on the ground. She deals with the sight by channeling her horror into a glorious performance as the hysterical girlfriend. She gets briefly questioned by the police, and the hotel gives her one of its nicest suites as a courtesy.

Once she's sitting alone in her new room, trembling, she looks at the phone that Sayid gave her. She could see that he wanted to run, to not have to talk to her or give any explanations. She wonders if he'll keep his promise---he's never technically broken one to her before.

*****************************

"So?"

It's the next morning, after a sleepless night. Shannon and Sayid are at a corner table in a busy café. Sayid's wearing the same clothes he'd been wearing the day before. It's as if he has a uniform now.

"Nadia was murdered," he begins, with a deep breath. Once he's gotten that first part out, he just keeps going. The story gets crazier and crazier, but the most surprising thing is that she's actually surprised. After smoke monsters and shit, she'd been priding herself on having been over ever being surprised again.

But it really _is_ nuts. First, that anyone would want to kill plain, boring, uninvolved, in-the-dark Nadia. Second that Ben Linus is off the island. Shannon had only ever seen him that one time, by the radio tower, but once had been more than enough… bug-eyed freak. The third insane thing is that Sayid is _actually_ working with him. It's like someone has lobotomized him; the Sayid she knew would never have ever thought about getting into this.

With a pang, she wonders if Sun had been right, _again_. Maybe she or someone should have called Sayid when Nadia died. He's clearly been all by himself for way too long, dealing with his grief in fucked up ways.

He finishes with the tale of Ben informing him that Hansel Born was actually one of Charles Widmore's operatives and telling Sayid when and how to take him out. Ben had told him that Hansel was going to meet a girl, but he hadn't said whom, and he had said that the girl would be arriving the day after.

"Yeah, Hansel had been here all week for work, but Sun said she didn't need me so I changed my ticket to an earlier day at the last minute," Shannon filled in.

"I see," Sayid replied.

There's an uncomfortable silence. Sayid hasn't looked happy to be here since the second he walked in the door. Probably because he knows that having to tell his ridiculous story to someone he knows will expose all the holes in his heretofore flawless logic, and that he'll have to admit that he's completely out of his mind.

Shannon tells him pretty much exactly that.

"You're working with _Ben_ to 'keep us safe'? The fuck? Why didn't you just join up with us?"

"He has all of the information."

"No, _Sun_ has all the information, numbskull. And unlike bug-eyes, you can actually _trust_ her. I mean, he clearly _knew_ that Hansel was going out with me, and just left that part out. Why did you gang up with him when you knew that Sun and I were doing pretty much the same thing?"

He thinks about it. "It was the timing. I was seeing red. He gave me the opportunity to have vengeance, and then to have more and more. You and Sun… you would have given me work, but not vengeance."

"Sure, but are you feeling any better after having killed all these people?"

"In the moment," he mumbles. "Also, you and Sun no longer wanted me in your lives. Calling you after all those months and after everything would have been… awkward."

"'Cause going around faking heart attacks in hotels _isn't_." Shannon takes a deep breath. She has a plan. In fact, she'd had it even before she'd come to the café. It's the only right thing to do. She leans forward and holds his hand, which is weird because she hasn't held it since they were all lovey-dovey so long ago, but it's only weird for a second. "This is what's going to happen. You're going to come back to Seoul with me. You're going to move in with me and Sun and the baby. And the three of us are going to work together and protect each other. Maybe even get Hurley out of his institution and get him to come stay with us, too. I don't know. Whatever, right? And you're going to have friends and be normal and you're going to stop going around killing people. And you're not going to talk to Ben anymore."

She can't believe she's the one bossing _Sayid_ around. It's like the world is going topsy-turvy, for the millionth time. But she knows she's right. It's just kind of new for Shannon to feel like the most pulled-together member of her acquaintance.

Sayid stares intently at her. He knows she's right, too. "Have you consulted Sun about this?"

"No, but it'll be alright. Or you could even buy out the neighbors' apartments so we're not all squished in together, and so you're not living with two women and a baby." She winks.

Slowly, Sayid replies, "Perhaps I wouldn't mind," and Shannon sees the first hint of a real smile from him that she's seen since… well, since before she left him.

It's going to be alright. Totally.


End file.
